The Moonlit Road
by Summing up the Stars
Summary: Horror stories/Urban Legends Beyblade Style! Almost everyone from the show will have parts. Please R/R!^^
1. Switching Mothers

Disclaimer: If I owned beyblade or any of the horror story ideas would I be writing Fanfiction?! Answer me that!  
  
Quote: Not everyone who looks scary is dangerous; not everyone who looks normal means well.  
  
Since you've taken a look at this story, I'm guessing it's safe to assume you enjoy spooky stories. The creatures lurking in these chapters, lurk also in the shadows along a deserted street, or are glimpsed in a lightning flash outside your window on a stormy night, or have just put a claw on the knob of the door to your home. Before you go any further, you might want to turn up the lights a bit or hang a clove of garlic on the wall........................................................................ ............................................................................ ............................................................................ ............................................................................ .....................................just in case..........  
  
Welcome to the night.  
  
*****  
  
Chapter One: Switching Mothers  
  
Tyson Granger liked the women who was going to be her stepmother until the day she actually married Tyson's father.  
  
"She turned into a total bitch overnight!", he told his best friend Max Tate on the way to school. "I can't believe it!"  
  
"I can believe it," Max said. "The same thing happened to me."  
  
Tyson was surprised. "I thought you liked your stepmother."  
  
"Oh, I do now, but I didn't at first. That's why I did what I did."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
Max shrugged. "Well, it's not something I really like to talk about, Tyson, but since you're having the same problem I had, I might be able to help you solve it."  
  
They continued on to the Tate's game shop, which was a few blocks from where Tyson and his family lived. Max's stepmother met them just in the door, on her way out, and greeted them warmly.  
  
"It's amazing, Max. She acts just like your mother did when she was alive. You are so lucky"  
  
Max smiled. "Actually, she *is* my mother."  
  
Tyson was sure he hadn't heard him correctly, but when they got to Max's room, he repeated what he had said.  
  
"She *is* my mother. Oh, I know she doesn't look like my mother, but inside, well, that's really who she is."  
  
Tyson shook her head. Max wanted to be a writer and was always making up things. Tyson thought this was just the beginning of another novel.  
  
"This isn't making any sense, Max."  
  
"I can understand how strange it must all sound to you, Tyson, but it's true. I was downtown last year at that shop for witches and warlocks on 18th street. I think I told you about it."  
  
Tyson nodded.  
  
"We'll, I was just looking around because I was bored and wanted to get out of my evil step mothers sight when all of a sudden this women said to me 'There is a way to get rid of your stepmother, if you want to'"  
  
"Max! Honestly! You're making this up!"  
  
Max crossed his heart and said, "I'm not! I promise! I was just as suprised as you are. I wondered how in the world she knew what I was thinking."  
  
Tyson raised an eyebrow.  
  
Max ignored it. "It was at a time my stepmother was giving me a really hard time, so I guess I wanted to hear what the women had to say."  
  
"Well?"  
  
"She showed me this book of incantations, you know, chants. It was on a shelf at the back of the store, and it was all dusty and everything, just like in the movies, but the women said there was an incantation in it for switching souls."  
  
"For *what* ?"  
  
"Yes! You can actually make the soul of a dead person take over the soul of a living person. They just switch places. It's incredible."  
  
"Oh Max, if that can be done, then why don't more people do it?"  
  
"I don't know. I didn't ask."  
  
Tyson was sometimes worried about his friend. He was always reading about 'life beyond the grave', as Max put it. Although he said it was research for the novels he was going to write, Tyson felt there was more to it then that. It wasn't fiction to Max, it was real.  
  
'I just know it works that's all. The next day, after I did it, my dad said my stepmother was a totally different person, that if he didn't know better, he'd think she was actually my mother. Of course, he didn't know what I'd done. He still doesn't."  
  
"The soul of your mother has taken over the soul of your stepmother?"  
  
"Yes. You've seen the evidence, Tyson. You just never thought about it, that's all."  
  
Tyson remembered how awful Max's stepmother had been when he and Max's father had returned form their honeymoon. Max had even stayed two weeks with Tyson because he couldn't stand being around them.  
  
"We can do the same thing to your stepmother, if you want."  
  
"I'll have to think about it." Tyson said.  
  
But it didn't take long for him to make his decision. That evening, his stepmother was so hateful to both him and his father that after dinner he called Max to tell him he was ready to do anything.  
  
"Good" Max said.  
  
"What comes first?" Tyson asked.  
  
"We need to visit your mothers grave to tell her what's going to happen and prepare her to take over your stepmothers body.  
  
It took Tyson awhile to go to sleep that night. He wasn't worried about his stepmother. She had it coming, he already decided. He was just trying to remember what her real mother had been like. He didn't know too much about her, actually. He only remembered women sitting in a chair in that beautiful old home in the country.  
  
Tyson had never been told exactly why his mother hadn't lived with them when he was growing up. He only knew that her nerves had been bad and that she had to be taken to live elsewhere. His father, when asked, always told Tyson how wonderful his mother was and how much he missed her. She sounded perfect.  
  
Max had copied the incantation on a piece of paper for Tyson. The first half had to be chanted over the grave of his mother. The second half had to be chanted over the sleeping body of her stepmother.  
  
"What if she wakes up while I'm doing it?" Tyson asked. He and Max were on the bus that went to the cemetery.  
  
"You don't have to shout it, Tyson. You just have to say it."  
  
That didn't make Tyson feel any better.  
  
When they got to the cemetery, Tyson walked directly to his mother's grave. He hadn't been there in two years, and felt ashamed, but maybe what he was planning to do would make up for everything, he thought.  
  
"Are we ready?"  
  
"You have to do it yourself," Max told him.  
  
Tyson took a deep breath. "Okay" He opened up the piece of paper and began reading. They were just words that didn't seem very special, but he trusted Max that they would work.  
  
"Now, tonight, chant the second half over your stepmother when she's sleeping, and, in the morning, when she wakes up, your real mother will be inside her body."  
  
When Tyson got home, his stepmother demanded to know where he had been.  
  
"You don't just wander off in this city without telling someone. Do you hear me? Anything could happen. I just wish you wouldn't cause everyone so much grief."  
  
At dinner, Tyson couldn't eat, and that provoked another argument. His father sat glumly in his chair, reading the newspaper, while his stepmother ranted and raved.  
  
As soon as he could, Tyson excused himself, saying he had homework to finish, and went to his room. Actually, he simply sat and stared at the walls, because he couldn't keep his mind on anything except what he was planning to do that night.  
  
His father and stepmother didn't go to be until midnight.  
  
When Tyson thought they were asleep, he took the piece of paper on which Max had written the incantation and went down the hall to their room.  
  
There was a night light near the door to their bathroom, so Tyson was able to see quite well inside the room. He tip toed to his stepmother's side of the bed and stood next to her. Then he said the incantation over her.  
  
When he finished, he went straight to bed.  
  
He was awakened by the telephone. Through half opened eyes, Tyson noticed that his bedside clock read eight am, and wondered who would be calling so early on a Sunday morning. He reached for the receiver.  
  
"Tyson!" It was Max. He sounded hysterical.  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"You have to get out of your house now!"  
  
"Why?"  
  
"It's your mother! I know what happened to her, I just asked my dad at breakfast, and he told me.!"  
  
Suddenly, Tyson heard someone cry, "No! No!" It sounded like his father. He dropped the phone and raced down the hall and into the bedroom.  
  
His father was lying on the bed. He was covered in blood. His stepmother had a long butcher knife on her hands and was stabbing him over and over.  
  
Tyson screamed.  
  
His stepmother looked up. Tyson had never seen in all his life such hate on anyone's face, not even Kai's.  
  
"You!" his stepmother screamed.  
  
Only Tyson knew it wasn't really his stepmother. It was his mother.  
  
"I tried to get rid of you when you were born, but your father stopped me!" She looked down at the lifeless body on the bed. "But he's not going to stop me this time!"  
  
His mother stood up, raised the bloody knife and started running towards him.  
  
*****  
  
~ End ~  
  
*****  
  
And if you think you hear something scratching at the window or a footstep in the empty room overhead, just remember it's only your imagination ............................................................................ ............................. ............................................................................ ............................................................................ ............................................................................ probably.  
  
Good Luck and Good Night.  
  
Pleasant Dreams. 


	2. The 'True' Story

Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
  
Since you've taken a look at this story, I'm guessing it's safe to assume you enjoy spooky stories. The creatures lurking in these chapters, lurk also in the shadows along a deserted street, or are glimpsed in a lightning flash outside your window on a stormy night, or have just put a claw on the knob of the door to your home. Before you go any further, you might want to turn up the lights a bit or hang a clove of garlic on the wall........................................................................ ........................................................................... . ............................................................................ ........................................................................... . .....................................just in case..........  
  
Welcome to the night.  
*****  
Chapter 2: The "True" Story:  
Tala tossed the branch he had been playing with onto the fire. "All right," he said to the other students,"I've got one."  
  
Tala and his classmates were on their annual school's spring trip. This year the class had elected to go camping in the forested mountains around their town. They had piled into a school bus early one Saturday morning and had driven most of the day to reach the campground, now dotted with several multicolored tent domes.  
  
Although there were two teachers along for supervision, the boys who had been lucky enough to come were mostly left on their own. The teachers' tents were a good fifty feet yards away-far enough from the students to give them a feeling of independence.  
  
Now, Tala and his buddies were taking advantage of their freedom. They were staying up long after the teachers had hit their sleeping bags and were sitting around the campfire, trying to terrify each other with the scariest stories they could think of.  
  
Michael and Kenny had already told some pretty petrifying ones, but Tala felt sure his would really rattle their wits. "I wont tell you how I heard this," he began, his face eerily lit up by the dancing flames of the fire, "but I will promise you that what I'm about to tell you is a true story."  
  
Michael snorted, but was promptly hushed by the others. They had a 'golden rule,' which stated that each storyteller had to be given a fair chance, so Tala just ignored Michael and began.  
  
"There was this kid," he said in a hushed tone. "We'll call him Mike. He lived alone with his dad at the edge of town, real close to the forest where his dad was working as a lumberjack. Sometimes Mike's dad would be gone for a few days when he was working deep in the forest, so Mike learned to take care of himself. He wasn't afraid of the woods like a lot of other kids. In fact, he was always goofing around among the huge trees, setting traps and fishing and stuff. Pretty soon, he knew his way around the woods better then most anyone else." For a moment, Tala looked over his shoulder at the woods behind him for dramatic effect. Then he continued in an eerie tone.  
  
"Anyway, one night while his dad was gone, Mike was sitting out on his front porch. He was staring up at the sky through his telescope when all of a sudden he saw a falling star. He watched it shoot across the sky, and then he could track it with his telescope. He was following the fiery blaze, watching it fall closer and closer to earth, when it actually got close enough that he didn't need his scope anymore to see it. In fact, it was getting so near to him he could feel the heat.especially since it was coming right at him!"  
  
"BAM!" yelled Michael, clapping his hands together sharply.  
  
The boy sitting next to him jumped, and everyone else laughed and poked the poor guy in the ribs. The Kenny, the class science nerd, had to step in and ruin the mood by opening his big mouth.  
  
"You know that's really not possible," Kenny said, "Actually I happen to know a lot about shooting stars. Did you know that according to-"  
  
"Kee-nnyy!" the other boys shouted him down. "Nobody wants a science lecture now!"  
  
"Are you guys through?" Tala said, pretending to be the adult in the group. He rolled his eyes and tapped his foot impatiently. Then, only after everybody had settled down, did he finally resume his story.  
  
"When Mike saw this thing flaming down out of the sky, he jumped for cover- and just in time. The meteor slammed into the ground about a hundred yards away. There was a flash of light and the sound of hundreds of trees snapping like pencils. Then everything was silent.  
  
"Well Mike didn't wait a single second. He took off running toward where he had seen the thing come down. But it was weird-there was no flames in sight. Still, it wasn't hard for Mike to locate. All he had to do was follow the disgusting smell-not of fire, but of something, kind of like burning rubber.  
  
Within minutes, he reached the crash site. It was awesome. The trees were a smashed up like twigs, and in the middle of the clearing was a huge pile of dirt that had been pushed up like a wave. Smoke was coming from the dirt, and Mike decided to get closer for a better look at what he was sure was a meteor.  
  
: Except it wasn't a meteor. It was something silvery that kind of glowed in the dark." Tala paused for a moment, and then said practically in a whisper, "It was a spaceship."  
  
Kenny guffawed. "Yeah right. And you said this was a *true* story!"  
  
Once again everyone chorused, " Kee-nnyy!" until the bespectacled future scientist gave up and let Tala go on.  
  
"Well, needless to say, Mike couldn't believe what he saw," Tala began again. "So he slid down the pile of dirt until he was actually standing on the ship itself. The surface was shiny, smooth, and warm to the touch. Mike figured a lot of it was buried underground since it didn't look very big.  
  
"Anyway, he was standing there, wondering what to do, when suddenly he heard a faint knocking sound. At first he thought it was the sound of the surface of the ship cooling, but then he realized that it was coming from *inside*. The knocking grew louder, and then-CRACK!- a big gash opened up in the metal hull!"  
  
Everybody flinched and the guy that Michael had scared earlier gave a tiny yelp. The others teased him unmercifully, but Tala knew they were just trying to laugh off their own fright. He jumped up and started to walk around as he continued telling his story.  
  
"The crack grew wider and wider until it made a circular hole. Then a horrible smell rolled out of the opening-it reminded Mike of the time he had found a rotting rabbit in a forgotten trap. It stunk so bad, Mike's legs went all rubbery, and he was shaking so much he could barely stand. Finally the crack stopped getting wider, so Mike inched his way closer to what was obviously some kind of doorway. His heart pounded so hard it practically made his shirt jump up and down, and the night seemed very quiet all of a sudden. He reached the edge of the opening and slowly leaned forward. Inch by inch, his head poked over the edge. He licked his lips, now dry with fear and excitement. He was going to be famous. He was going to be the first human ever to meet an alien!"  
  
Tala looked around at his audience. He really had them, but he knew he'd better get to the scary part pretty soon. He went on, trying to make his voice sound ominous and spooky.  
  
"First Mike saw some blinking lights on the inside wall. Next, he saw something that looked like a tunnel into the center of the ship. He leaned a little farther...and there it was-a dark shape in the middle of the tunnel. Suddenly a tentacle shot out! Before Mike could scream, it wrapped around his throat. He tried to get away, but the slimy thing was too strong for him. Gasping for air, he felt himself being pulled over the edge of the hole and into the ship. The thing-a hideous cross between a spider and an octopus-had him..and it was pulling him closer to its mouth!"  
  
Tala held up his hands about a foot apart. "Mike was this close to going down the gross thing's ugly, slimy throat. In fact, he was so close he almost passed out from the stench of the thing's breath. Then its tongue- with millions of tiny teeth on it-snaked out. It swirled across Mike's face like sandpaper, tearing into his cheeks and practically ripping off his nose. Then, just before he blacked out, Mike saw small tentacles ooze out of the aliens head. Although he tried, he couldn't fight off the alien as it sank one of its tentacles right into his skull and bored through it like it was a coconut, heading right for his brain."  
  
Tala paused while his audience made appropriate sounds of disgust. Then, before they had time to speak, he held up his hand.  
  
"Wait a minute. There's more. You see, some time later Mike woke up. But he wasn't exactly *Mike* anymore. The alien had taken over, or assimilated his body...and his life."  
  
"What?" one of the boys gasped.  
  
"That's right. Once it was comfortable in its new body, the alien set its ship to self-destruct. Then it followed Mike's memories back to the house where he had grown up. There it waited for its new human parent-Mike's dad- to return. And the worst part of the whole story is that poor Mike, even though he didn't have a body anymore, still had enough consciousness to know what was happening. He figured out that the alien would take over his dad too; and that the more humans it assimilated, the more capable it was of reproducing itself over and over again. In time it would control the planet. And all Mike could do was watch in silent horror, knowing that he had brought about the doom of the human race."  
  
Tala's voice dropped to a whisper as he finished, and stood still in the flickering shadows cast by the waning campfire. The stunned silence was everything he could have hoped for. He waited as his classmates slowly began breathing again.  
  
A boy named Ian sighed heavily. "It's like that movie where the scientists are at the south pole and they find an alien that takes people over and makes copies of them." The boy shivered. "Afterward, the scientists couldn't tell who was real and who was a copy."  
  
Michael rolled his eyes. Of course *he* had to be the one to try to knock Tala's story down. Michael was always the first to have something negative to say.  
  
"I thought you said it was a true story," he accused. "That story was no more true then a fairy tale."  
  
Tala looked at him innocently. "It *is* true."  
  
Michael shook his head, "Uh, uh. No way."  
  
Tala tried not to smile. Someone just had to figure it out. In fact, he had been betting on it. "Okay, smart guy," he challenged Michael,"why is there no way it can be true?"  
  
"There's no way because there was nobody around when the kid went into the spaceship," Michael said, pouncing on what he was sure was a flaw in Tala's logic. "And if the kid never came out, and the alien blew up the ship, then there's nobody to tell the story and no evidence that the ship or alien ever existed."  
  
"That's true," Tala admitted. "But you missed one important point."  
  
Everyone listened closely to see how he would defend himself.  
  
"There *is* one person who knows the whole story" Tala said nearly whispering," But his name isn't Mike."  
  
Suddenly Tala opened his shirt. "IT"S ME!" he yelled as thick black tentacles shot out from his chest.  
  
Everyone screamed. It looked like a grenade had exploded in the middle of the circle as the boys jumped, crawled, or rolled backward away from the monster that had once been Tala.  
  
"WHAT IS IT?" yelled the teachers as they came racing from their tents.  
  
Tala knelt in front of the fire, nearly breathless with laughter. Tears streamed down his face as he propped himself with his hands to keep from falling over. The tentacles now bounced and swayed gently at his side, looking suspiciously like black nylons stuffed with something springy.  
  
"What's going one?" demanded Mr. Dickinson, the English teacher.  
  
Tala managed to catch his breath and tried to answer, but the sight of his classmates slowly picking themselves up made him break out laughing once again.  
  
"Ah, nothing, Mr. Dickinson," said Tala's best friend Kai, who had kept quiet, like his nature demanded, through out Tala's story.  
  
"Nothing?" repeated Mr. Tate, a volunteer parent supervisor, "You were all screaming like it was the end of the world!"  
  
Tala finally recovered enough to explain. "You see, we were telling scary stories, and I guess mine was a little too scary."  
  
The supervisors- hands on hips- studied the group of kids. Everyone was trying to look as if it had been somebody else screaming and not them.  
  
Finally Mr. Dickinson pronounced that it was late and everyone was to be in their tents-asleep-within the next fifteen minutes.  
  
Most of the kids still too embarrassed to do anything but agree. Some of them shot Tala dirty looks, but others grinned or gave him the thumbs-up sign, wishing they had been as clever as he was.  
  
True to Mr. Dickinson's wishes, fifteen minutes later they were all in their tents, although not exactly asleep. The sound of whispered conversations and muffled laughter could be heard from every tent.  
  
"Whew," Kai said in a low voice from his side of the tent he and Tala were shared, you nailed us all with that one."  
  
Tala smiled. "You know, I think Eddy almost had a heart attack."  
  
Kai clutched his chest and fell backward. The two boys burst into laughter and spent the next few minutes making jokes about who had been the most scared of the group.  
  
After their laughing fit had passed, Kai leaned over close to Tala. "Where did you get that story from, anyway?" he asked in a whisper.  
  
"Why?" Tala whispered back.  
  
"I mean, did you get it from that movie Ian was talking about?"  
  
"What makes you think I made it up?" Tala asked suddenly serious.  
  
Kai was silent for a moment. Then he said in an almost angry tone, "Come on, Tala. I really want to know where you got the story. Stop goofing around."  
  
Tala didn't answer right away. The silence in the tent seemed to take on a life of its own. Finally the breath Tala had been holding in exploded out of his mouth in a bark of laughter. "Of course I made it up! What do you think-it really happened?"  
  
There was a strange sound from Kai, as if his sleeping bag was being torn open. "Good," he sneered as he clamped a hand tightly over Tala's mouth. "I was worried for a moment that I'd been discovered."  
*****  
~ End ~  
*****  
And if you think you hear something scratching at the window or a footstep in the empty room overhead, just remember it's only your imagination ............................................................................ ............................. ............................................................................ ........................................................................... . ............................................................................ probably.  
  
Good Luck and Good Night.  
  
Pleasant Dreams. 


	3. The Warning

Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
  
Since you've taken a look at this story, I'm guessing it's safe to assume you enjoy spooky stories. The creatures lurking in these chapters, lurk also in the shadows along a deserted street, or are glimpsed in a lightning flash outside your window on a stormy night, or have just put a claw on the knob of the door to your home. Before you go any further, you might want to turn up the lights a bit or hang a clove of garlic on the wall........................................................................ ........................................................................... . ............................................................................ ........................................................................... . .....................................just in case..........  
  
Welcome to the night.  
  
*****  
  
Chapter 3: The Warning  
  
*****  
  
Mariah was planning to drive through the night to a city several hundred miles away. She was traveling alone which made her mother nervous.  
  
"Be careful," cautioned her mother. "Don't trust strangers. There's a maniac on the loose, you know, and he preys on single women like you."  
  
Mariah was quick to dismiss her mother's fears, it was true that there was a man who had escaped from a nearby prison, and it was true that he had abducted two young women and brutally murdered them with a large butcher knife, but what of it? As long as a person was street-smart and kept her wits about her they'd be fine.  
  
"Don't worry about me, "she told her mother laughingly. "I'll be fine. I know how to take care of myself."  
  
Mariah had meant what she said, but the warning lingered on her mind.  
  
The sun had already set when she stopped at a lonely service station by the side of the highway. Heavy clouds obscured the moon and stars, and a rainstorm threatened.  
  
Hurriedly she filled the gas tank and made use of the dingy little restroom. When she approached the counter to pay her bill, the attendant smiled in a friendly fashion.  
  
"Looks like it's going to be a nasty night," he said as he used a grimy thumb to point at the way his out-door signs were whipping in the wind.  
  
Mariah nodded but said nothing. In the gloom of night, away from the comforting lights of town, she didn't feels as courageous. The service- station attendant might have been a perfectly fine person, but she had no way of knowing that for certain. He was a stranger to her, and she had been warned to not talk to strangers. As she thought of this, she took her change from the man and hurried out the door, toward the safety of her car. She was almost there when she heard the bells of the door jangle behind her.  
  
"Wait a minute!" the attendant called after her.  
  
Mariah didn't turn. Instead, she quickened her pace.  
  
"I'm in a hurry!" she lied as she ran around the front of her car and yanked open the driver's side door. She slid in behind the wheel, closed the door and locked it. When she looked up, she saw the attendant standing inches away.  
  
Inside the well-lit station, he had appeared to be only a little grubby and disheveled. But outside, under the arc of unnatural fluorescent bulbs, the attendant had taken on a decidedly unsettling countenance. His face was pale and unshaven, and his eyes were wide and darting. When he spoke, even his voice had a different quality.  
  
"I made a mistake," he said to her. "I gave you the wrong change. Just come back inside for a minute and we'll sort it out."  
  
A dense, cold knot formed within Mariah's stomach.  
  
"I have to go! I don't care about my change!" she yelled through the closed window. She turned the ignition key and breathed a silent prayer of thanks when her occasionally unreliable car roared to life.  
  
But the attendant was insistent.  
  
"No, it's you who owe me money," he said. "It'll just take a minute. Then you can be on your way!"  
  
He stepped in front of Mariah's car then, blocking her way. More than his nervous gaze or his obvious lie, this frightened her. She fumbled in her purse for a handful of coins, and opened her window just wide enough to throw the money out.  
  
"Here!" she cried. "That's more than enough! Now, let me go!"  
  
The attendant leaned forward. He placed his hands on the hood of the car and looked directly into Mariah's eyes. Slowly, he shook his head. Silently, he mouthed the word 'no'.  
  
It was so threatening, so loathsome, Mariah was jolted into action. She put the car in gear and stepped on the gas pedal. The attendant jump out of the way barely in time. The front fender of the car still managed to brush his thigh with enough force that he was knocked down and sent rolling across the pavement.  
  
As her car swerved wildly onto the highway, Mariah risked on backward glace. To her horror, she saw the attendant making a limping run for the pickup truck that sat parked in the stall marked 'employees'.  
  
She pressed her foot into the gas pedal, pushing the car to its limit. But the car's limit was less than enough, and soon there were headlights looming behind her. In the darkness, Mariah couldn't see that it was the attendant's truck following her, but she knew. The driver repeatedly flashed his headlights on high beam and blasted his horn insistently.  
  
'Oh my god!' Mariah thought, 'he's trying to drive me off the road!'  
  
The truck advanced until it was scant inches away from the car's bumper, and it's horn blared out with deafening persistence. When the driver backed off slightly, it was only so that he could blind her with a staccato flashing of lights. Between this terrifying interference and her own state of panic, Mariah feared that it wouldn't be long before she misjudged one of the twists and turns of the dark highway.  
  
As she was thinking that, she sped past a familiar sign. "U-Pick Produce, ½ Mile," it read, and Mariah remembered the farm where she had once filled a gallon with fresh blueberries. She knew that the drive was coming up on her right; it was a sharp turn that drivers were apt to miss, unless they were prepared...  
  
Mariah saw the gravel lane and cranked hard on the steering wheel. She felt the car go up on two tires, where it wobbled briefly before coming down with a spine-compressing thud.  
  
There was noise then, a violent noise that began with a squealing of rubber on pavement, as the pickup truck tried too late to follow the car. The noise was followed by the brittle snapping of tree trunks and the scream of twisting metal. Finally, there was the soft whoosh of flames. The truck had left the road and torn a destructive path down the shallow gully that divided the highway and the U-Pick Produce drive.  
  
Mariah felt overwhelming relief wash through her. She slowed the car, turned it around, and shifted it to park. For a moment, she watched the flaming wreckage that imprisoned the maniacal service-station attendant. Then she closed her eyes, leaned forward until her damp forehead was touching the steering wheel, and waited for the tears to come.  
  
But they didn't. In their place, there was a strange sensation of triumph.  
  
'I was right,' Mariah thought, 'I know perfectly well how to take care of myself! There's never a reason to be afraid, as long as I keep my wits about me!'  
  
When she finished congratulating herself, Mariah sat up once more and opened her eyes. Some small movement in the rearview mirror captured her attention, and she glanced up to see what it might be.  
  
It took only a split second for her to realize that she had been wrong. Wrong about her cocky beliefs, and wrong about the poor dead service- station attendant. He hadn't been trying to kill her; it was suddenly clear that he'd been trying to warn her.  
  
For there, in the deep shadows of the back seat, sat a large man with a leering eye and an evil smile. When he noticed her looking at him, he smiled more broadly and held something up.  
  
The flickering orange flames of the burning truck wreckage reflected so beautifully in the polished razor-edged blade of his very large butcher knife.  
  
*****  
  
~End~  
  
*****  
  
And if you think you hear something scratching at the window or a footstep in the empty room overhead, just remember it's only your imagination ............................................................................ ............................. ............................................................................ ........................................................................... . ............................................................................ probably.  
  
Good Luck and Good Night.  
  
Pleasant Dreams. 


End file.
